


Heaven's Hung in Black

by scarletprophesy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other, Threesome - M/M/M, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:04:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3175580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletprophesy/pseuds/scarletprophesy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, twice, an eternity ago, a few minutes ago, Castiel could have oriented by simply feeling his place on the round rock as it spun, hurtling through the abyss beneath his feet. </p>
<p>Once, twice, an eternity ago, a few minutes ago, Castiel had been an angel, and all that came with it. </p>
<p>Once, twice, a fraction of a moment before he lay himself on the line for the fate of the world yet again, Castiel had been infinite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven's Hung in Black

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this thing rattling around in my drafts for ages, bits and scraps pieced together in the middle of the night in frantic text messages to my friend, or on the train during moments of boredom. I'm not really in the spn fandom anymore. I don't know what to do with this. But, I've had this as a draft for over two years and I think it deserves to turn into something people read.  
> Still very much a work in progress, and deals quite a bit with gender issues, sexuality, personhood, destiny, and the inevitability of death and being consumed by an uncaring void. I wrote the beginnings back when I was still kind of questioning things and feeling out the idea of wait-i-might-be-genderfluid-holy-shit-this-makes-sense so idk.   
> Title is from WASP's Heaven Hung in Black, which, btw, is totally a Cas-fell-again-goddamit anthem

Once upon a time… Ah. I see you roll your eyes already; but is this not how all fairy tales are started? Yes, it was once upon a time, for this was before, beyond Time as we know it had existed. Once upon a time, the being that had once been known as Castiel, angel of the lord, would never have imagined the aborted apocalypse, the leviathans, the glittering hailstorm of yet another failure sparkling so pretty like the fireworks Sam and Dean had set off that one Fourth of July; indeed, it would never have occurred to Castiel to imagine anything beyond the existence Castiel knew, beyond the blind and devoted worship of his heavenly Father and his heavenly Father’s creation, because Castiel had no purpose for imagination. In fact, imagination pretty much didn’t exist for shining wavelengths of celestial intent such as Castiel.

With the advent of the latest failure, the being that had once been known as Castiel, angel of the lord, could be found gazing up at his brethren as they fell, eyes full of disbelief. Castiel felt acutely the loss of grace, seeping into every bone of the body that housed him. Castiel… if one could say so, Castiel felt weary, inasmuch as angels know how to feel, are capable of feeling the feelings that humans do. During Castiel’s brief stint as a rebel, cut off from heaven before Samuel Winchester’s self-sacrificial swan dive, Castiel became somewhat familiar with some of those feelings that men were heir to – hunger and thirst and shame, bitterness and anger and desire – but that had been a much more gradual process, humanity sinking in bone-deep as grace faded piece by piece. Now, Castiel did not possess that luxury of a slow acclimatization. He had fallen. He was hurt and weary, and he was afraid. He was, and that was the most disturbing fact of all, for Castiel had not thought of Castiel as being a himself for most of eternity that had come before his meeting the Winchesters.

It took forever for Castiel to move, move far from the spot he had landed in, his mind clouded in THINGS, things that he could not begin to fathom, things that drowned out the measly five senses Castiel’s newfound nature afforded him. Once, twice, an eternity ago, a few minutes ago, Castiel could have oriented by simply feeling his place on the round rock as it spun, hurtling through the abyss beneath his feet. Once, twice, an eternity ago, a few minutes ago, Castiel had been an angel, and all that came with it. Once, twice, a fraction of a moment before he lay himself on the line for the fate of the world yet again, Castiel had been infinite. Fat load of good it had done him, too. Now, he stumbled through the treacherous forest, his eyes half-blind from staring into the burning fire of his falling kith and kin; he did not know where he was going or what he was doing. He only knew that he WAS, and that knowledge in itself was terrifying enough, for that meant that all Castiel knew as being Castiel had been ripped from him yet again.

He ran, tripping over tree roots, hands shaking as branches snagged upon his clothes, slashed through his skin. He ran, he knew not how long, and he could see nothing from between the trees beyond a slowly growing orange glow. He could not tell if it was the sunrise, or the flames of the forest on the edges around him as more had-been angels tumbled to the ground, their wings aflame. Perhaps it was both. Perhaps it was neither. He ran, until he reached a small creek, the bits of sky above him lightening to a sickly gray; it was there that he collapsed to his knees, his heart pounding. He did not know what he had run from; he did not know where he was running to, and he did not know why he had stopped before this creek. Thirsty, he drank the clear, cold water that ran within. 

For a long time, Castiel stayed on his knees, by that softly babbling creek. It was mostly silent, in the way that forests are silent except not; it was reassuring to Castiel that animals and insects and nature were still going about their business as they normally would do; potential apocalypse or not, it was another day for these simple beings, and Castiel desperately wished he could be one of them.

“Hey there, little bro,” said a voice behind him. Weary, too weary to fight, Castiel turned his head. Before him stood a man he had long thought dead… nay, not a man. Castiel felt the breath punched out of his lungs, a sensation he’d never thought possible when he was only Castiel, angel of the lord.

“Gabriel,” he acknowledged, his voice reverent. “Am I… dead?” After all, one couldn’t really know unless they asked, now could they?

Gabriel, or whatever passed for him in these parts of the world, frowned and leaned upon a tree trunk. “Not dead, little bro, although it’s been an interesting few years,” he said, sighing.

Castiel stared at him, unblinking. He wondered if he were dreaming. He wondered if he were dead. All those other times he died, he didn’t remember anything that happened while he was out… so who says this isn’t death? Who says this isn’t where angels go when they are angels no more?

Who says this isn’t another level of purgatory, and he just never noticed?   


Gabriel looked him over. “You look like hell. What happened?” he asked.

Castiel shook his head, deciding to humor the hallucination. "Heaven fell," he said, simply, and tried to get up. He needed to find Dean, if they were still in the same realm of existence and consciousness, find him and warn him, help him somehow... 

Was he even still alive? Castiel wasn't sure. 

Was Sam still alive? 

Was he himself amongst the living? 

Castiel wobbled up onto his feet, and looked up at the tiny patch of sky that he could barely see; it was still streaked with bits of light, bits that used to be grace. 

"Whoa, easy there," he could hear Gabriel say, distantly, and suddenly the ground beneath his feet was a thousand times more shaky. Castiel gasped, but he couldn't hear anything anymore; his vision faded to green, then to white, then to black, and the last thing he was aware of was, vaguely, falling yet again. 

Then, the darkness claimed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try to update again soon. If you have feedback, I'll greatly appreciate it!  
> Follow me at
> 
> [cyberpunkdreamland.tumblr.com](http://www.cyberpunkdreamland.tumblr.com)
> 
> for more nonsense, a bunch of fandoms, and some terrible life choices.


End file.
